You know those moments. I know you do. Those, "Oh mom!" moments when you whine or yell out that expression. Usually it's because "Mother dear" has done something we don't approve of. I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm living an episode of the Golden Girls. Hmm, I wonder which character I would most likely be? Check out the similarities. I am a grown woman, that lives at home, and takes care of her sometimes, sick mom. I call her my "roommate". She's not the normal, "meddler" type of mother, nor is she the possessive type either. And she's certainly not the "Betty Crocker I'm going to bake my life away" mom AT.ALL. She's a lot like the character Sophia on the Golden Girls, minus the meddling and the really "old" part. My mom's still got it going on! And she's funny and a "momma bear" that protects her young at any cost. But that would mean that I am like the character Dorothy and I'm not. Well first of all I'm too short! And second of all, if my hair EVER had that much grey or blue in it, I would wear a wig! Serious! I think I'm a cross between Blanche and Rose. I have a bit of a naughty side that only a select few see, and I also have a clumsy, naive and funny side to me. So if I could, I'd morph those characters together and form "me". Anyway, on with the story. What story you ask? Come on! You know I always have a story for you! So back to the beginning. I'm currently living an episode of Golden Girls Does Houston (or is that "Do" Houston?) My "roommate" decided that it was time to remodel the kitchen. Exciting yes? Uh, no. See, the thing is, my bedroom is directly next to the kitchen. A wall separates me from the fridge. My roomie was talking about tearing down walls and tons of dust everywhere and painting. All kinds of nonesense spewed from that tiny woman's mouth! All I could think was, "Why????" And so, a part of my Sunday was spent moving furniture around and away from the "deluge" of debris and dirt and rubble that was to come today. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Operation New Kitchen began bright and early this Monday morning! Joy! Joy! Joy! We argued about where the furniture should go, and then I had to physically remove her from my bedroom because she kept insisting she move stuff around herself. She's one tough cookie, my mami! And stubborn as a mule too! Finally, boxes were put away, furniture was covered and secured and my bedroom aka The Shangri la" looked more like a storage facility than the room where the "magic" happens. Muahaha! Yeah right. I'm wondering, what would Blanche do in a case like this?
Stay turned tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that! This "project" of my mom's is supposed to take up to three weeks to complete. Too bad the beach here doesn't look like Florida's beach.